Cause and Effect
by Undead Gamer
Summary: Arson claims the lives of the heroes of the Dalek Invasion. A tragic accident destroys UGSC Station Avalon. The Doctor must once again face loose ends from his past as he attempts to identify Cause and Effect.


**Cause and Effect**

_Required Disclaimer: Doctor Who and its assorted characters are property of the BBC, except the Daleks which are the property of Terry Nation's Estate. They own them, I don't._

_This fiction takes place as part of the TV continuity. Events in the various novels may or may not be reflected here._

**Prelude – A Beginning**

People picked through the still smoldering wreckage of the building, hoping by some miracle that they would find someone alive. Already two bodies, depressingly small, had been found. Charred by the intense flames, it would be impossible to officially identify them but there could be little doubt that they were Mary and George Campbell, foster children adopted by Susan and David Campbell, heroes of the resistance who were instrumental in bringing an end to the Dalek occupation.

Another shout and people rushed over. This time there was more than just the shaking of heads and silent prayers. A ripple of shock went through the rescue party. Two figures were there. One, like the other two bodies, was charred beyond recognition, but again there was little doubt that it was David. The cause of the shock was a young woman who could be barely out of her teens. It looked like David had thrown himself over her, protecting her from the flames and it had worked. There was barely a mark on her, a few small burns but that was all. _One last sacrifice_, they said later at the pub, raising their glasses in a silent toast to the memory of David. _He will be up there, knowing that at least he saved one more life right at the end._

They had searched throughout the day and would be back tomorrow as there was still one body left, that of Susan Campbell. Some entertained the hope that she had been away for some reason at the time the fire started, but it didn't seem likely. She would have returned by now, and so they raised their glass to her as well, heroes of the Dalek War.

* * *

She had given her name as Susan Smith to the hospital staff, the press and the police. She agreed that the name was a coincidence and suggested that Susan Campbell had found it amusing to hire a Susan to look after the children. As to what happened - how the fire started - she told them that she couldn't remember. That she had been hired on to look after Mary and George. That yes, both Susan and David had been home at the time of the fire as had the children.

She was discharged from the hospital fairly quickly. The space she occupied was needed for the genuinely sick or injured. Even now, some years after the end of the occupation resources were limited in London. The police weren't willing to let her go as easily. She was the only witness they had, and for a time, their only suspect. The fire had been deliberately lit. That much they had been able to determine. As Susan pointed out, there were a number of people who were not happy with the 'Heroes of the Resistance.' The rebuilding was slow and many were dissatisfied. There were also those who had, for one reason or another, placed their faith and loyalty with the Dalek invasion force. But as the state funeral came and went and things settled down again, she was left more and more alone. And that was the way Susan liked it.

She grieved for George and Mary, but even more she grieved for David. She grieved for the friends she had known and the life that she had lost. She could remember David throwing himself over her, pinning her to the ground as the roof supports had given way. She could still fell the heat of the fire all around her, the sounds of Mary and George screaming for help and her inability to help them. David had whispered in her ear as he held her and protected her that he loved her.

Tears stung her cheeks, but they would be her last. She knew this would be the last time she would sit here, the park where David had formally proposed to her. It was time to move on and she had something to do. The fire _had_ been deliberately lit and she had been its target, not David or the children. It had nothing to do with them, or the resistance. She had felt the touch of the mind as it watched the place burn and it had been full of malevolence, for her and her alone. And it was a mind that was as out of place, as out of time as she was.

Resolutely she wiped the tears away and walked over to the lake. This was the first time that she had been willing to study her reflection. She had not really had time to pay attention to the process of regeneration, her thoughts dominated by David, the children and the searing pain of the flames. She would have died as well if he hadn't been shielding her, the flames burning away the cells even as her body rebuilt them. She was young, slightly taller than she had been before. She already knew that she had a slightly more aggressive temperament than she had possessed before. Not as passive, not as reflective.

She kicked a rock into the water, scattering her reflection. She wasn't sure if she liked them, her new look and personality. She knew that she would grow into them and it wasn't as if she'd had much choice in the matter. It was too late now anyway, they were set and she was stuck with them. What was important was the letter that she held in her hand… and the fact that _he _was late.

She started to her feet as the wheezing, grinding noise shattered the peace of the park. _You have got to be joking,_ she thought to herself as she saw the police box appear, the familiar lines unchanged from when it had abandoned her here some years before. _He still hasn't fixed the thing?_ Of course she couldn't be sure just how much time had passed for him, but still...

Then the door opened and her other thoughts were forgotten for the moment. The young man that stepped out was… not what she was expecting. She was not surprised that he had altered his appearance; their lives before they had parted ways had not been the safest, but in all the thoughts she'd entertained about his arrival she hadn't expected him to change this much. Before her stood a young man (in human terms) looking around thirty with messy brown hair and a somewhat disheveled pin stripe suite… and plimsolls? Despite that he stood with an aura of confidence, though she could see a little uncertainty on his face, uncertainty that she knew was reflected on her own

Both of them stood silent for a second. The last time she had seen him was when he had locked her out of the TARDIS. She glanced at his hand and she could see that he held the same letter she had just written, though slightly more wrinkled, slightly more time-worn. He recovered before she did and lightly stepped out of the TARDIS waving the letter at her.

"Hello, how are you? Doing well? So… what is so important that you had to create a temporal paradox to get my attention?"

She looked at the letter, then back at him. "Grandfather, I…"

Whatever she was going to say was lost as another voice cut into the conversation.

"_Grandfather!_"


End file.
